


Best Medicine

by WichitaRed



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WichitaRed/pseuds/WichitaRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Childhood and the day that brings it to an end, followed by a view of them surviving afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ** this is a Young Heyes and Curry story

Best Medicine: Part One  
Alias Smith & Jones Story: Childhood, the day it all comes to an end. 

Arching my back, it pops loosening some of the kinks taking up residence along my spine. Heaving a sigh, I look to the sun dipping in the sky and I know I had better get a move on because we’re running low on light. Heaving even longer sigh as I bend to snatch my hat from where I tossed it on the ground, I feel Pa’s hand on my head, his strong fingers tousling my damp hair. 

“Yer ’av done me proud today, Hannibal.”

Hearing this, I can’t help but swell up. His words giving me the boost I need to get going again. It’s been the beatingest of days, first time I’ve ever been allowed to work alongside Pa and Uncle Fred’rick, doing man’s labor. At dawn we’d set out to butcher our family’s earmark into the spring crop of calves. Tarnation, but it’s been messy, bloody, tiring work still I wouldn’t trade it for anything. ‘Specially not for Jed’s job of cutting calves away from their Mama’s. That’s boy’s work. Shoving my hat on, I toss Pa a smile as I head toward the corral to take on the calf Uncle Fred’rick’s pulled for me. 

When I hear something, ‘What was that?!’ Sliding to a halt, I see horses flowing down the western slope like bugs from under a rock. Except with the sun in my eyes, I can’t make out who they are. “Riders approaching.” I holler, rotating my eyes from the weaving silhouettes to Pa’s face. I want to gauge his reaction. His black eyes are squinted up and I know he is calculating. 

“Hannibal.” He calls in a thick whisper, his eyes remaining on the men. 

Running to him, he pulls me close, so close; I can see only one long shadow stretching away from us. As he herds me toward Uncle Fred’rick and our corral of bawling cattle, I can feel his heart pounding like the blows of a blacksmith’s hammer, ‘Pa’s always cautious of strangers . . .’ I try to look back and can’t he’s moving me too fast . . . ‘but not like this.’

“I want yer to climb into dat corral an’ set backs behind de rocks wi’ Jedediah. Yer stay silent ‘till we cum for yer.”

“But Pa. . .” He shoves away, hard and I stumble. Catching myself, I look up into his stony face trying to swallow the dry hard lump expanding in my throat.

“Go on nigh. Do as I say.” 

Uncle Fred’rick pats my shoulder as I dive between the rails sending the cattle scattering and recalling Pa’s caution, I skulk through the herd like a coyote rather than whistling and talking my way through as I normally would. 

“Oi Hannibal.”

Looking back, Pa winks playing out a grin, it’s the same crooked grin that makes Ma say ~ Irish do not attempt tricking me with that rascal smile of yours. Before I can smile back, he is running to catch up to Uncle Fred‘rick who has already stridden off toward the strangers. Watching them, I grow – all-overish – no other way to express it. 

Hunkering down alongside Jed as I was told, I hold tight to his hand, keeping him close. I want to ask him what he thinks but he is two years younger and I don’t want to upset him so I just stare at the grass peeking up around the toes of my boots. When he pokes me, I look into his blue eyes and I can see his mouth forming words but all I can hear is gunfire. At the sound of it, my blood turns cold and I know better yet still I can’t stop myself or for that matter Jed from scrambling around the rocks. We make it in time to see our Pa’s collapse. The men on horseback are circling them, still shooting them and as I stare, I find the way, their bodies jerk, and buck in the green grass horrify me. Hearing Jed sob, “No!” brings me back. I swing to look at him so fast my neck pops. ‘I’m the oldest – I gotta protect him.’ 

Snaking a hand over his mouth, I hurl us back behind the rocks. Lying there, I can taste dirt in my mouth and hear the pounding of my blood. Jed is hollering beneath my hand, kicking and wrestling to be free, “Hssst, do you want to bring’em straight to us?” My words scare him and he freezes. I see his blue eyes grow larger as the tale-tale crunching of dirt under hooves draws near. We both believe we will be found when hear instead the cattle being herded from the corral. ‘Rustlers? That doesn’t make sense.’ 

The sharp crack of a gun causes Jed to jump, almost escaping my hold and I hold him tighter. All the while, I can’t stop thinking of our Pa’s. I want to rage. To scream, better yet to grab my Pa’s big fifty out of our rigging and kill every one of them. Just let go with a regular conniption fit. But, I know if I do anything . . . anything at all, they'll shoot me too. I must protect Jed and I don’t want to die, so I tell myself over and over, ‘stay still, – stay in control.’ 

‘How long have we been pinned to the back of these rocks?’ Too long my aching body tells me. Dark quiet is all around us and Jed is squirming again. We can’t stay hidden forever, motioning him to stay; I slowly stand to peer around the rocks. 

No sign of the men . . . Rustlers . . . Murders . . . whoever they were I don’t see them. They must be gone. Setting store by this fact, I step out and all that is left is three still humps on the dark prairie. I nearly jump out of my skin, when Jed takes my hand. His hand is as cold as a pump handle in January. But the thought of shaking him free never crosses my mind. Oddly enough, my eyes keep straying not to the bodies of our Fathers but to what I know to be Little Sis, Pa’s favorite cattle pony. “That last shot we heard must have been to put Sis down.” My whispered words sound incredibly loud in the silence.

“Poor Sis.” Jed sobs, smudging a fist across his eye. “Uncle Daniel always boasted what a good horse she was.”

I know his tears aren’t for Sis just as mine aren’t. Feeling alone I move to wrap him in my arms but he twists from me racing toward his Pa. I run to stop him and then fall to my knees. ‘He needs to see for himself. So do I. But can I do it.’ Even as I argue with myself, I have risen and my feet have taken me right to my Pa for I am staring down at him and thinking, ‘It must hurt having your arm twisted back like that.’ I know he can no longer feel pain still I move him, straightening his arm trying to make him more comfortable. 

Sitting beside him, I spy a gleam in his palm. Leaning closer I see it’s his watch. His silver pocket watch that he brought with him from Ireland. Pa said it belonged to his Da and one day it would be mine. Slipping it free, I clasp it to my chest. And sit. 

Just sit. Sit for I don’t know how long. 

Until I’m cold.

Until we both are.

* * * * *

“Who’d of thought Ms. Tisdale was so nice?”

Jed has been at me non-stop ever since we have been dropped here at Ms. Tisdale’s. I just don’t feel up to talking. 

“She was always so mean in school.”

I can hear him moving. ‘I hope he goes back inside.’

“Course she’s nice to you. You like books.”

Okay now he’s sitting in front of me, staring at me. I close my eyes hoping he will become bored and go back inside. “Didn’t I straight out tell him I wanted some time to think. Came out here, found this quiet spot in the cottonwoods to be alone and he comes out here chattering like a mockingbird.’

“And, she’s a good cook.”

‘Please Jed give me some time alone.’

“Oh, and she smells good too.” 

‘Please Jed leave me be.’

“Don’t ya think she smells good, Hannibal?”

‘He’s gonna make me yell at him.’ I pull my knees up tight to rest my chin on top of them trying to push away his words. ‘Cause he’s right. . . She does smell good. Like clean soap and sun-dried clothes and. . . . And she reminds me of home. And. . . Of Ma--- Damn it I am too old to cry. Damn it Jed. . . Why did you make me do this?’ There’s no stopping the tears this time. Pushing my forehead against my knees so Jed can’t see, I let them seep into my pants. I can feel my whole body shaking. . . I feel so . . . I’m not sure. Mad. I want to kill the men who did this to me. I’m sobbing so hard now I feel like I’m gonna explode. And, I ain’t crying from grief. It’s anger. Anger because I can’t get my hands on those men. That’s when I feel Jed slip an arm about my shoulders and his forehead settle against my neck. He ain’t talking no more, just rocking in time with me and I can feel wetness trickling down my neck. 

And this is how we stay. Until we cry ourselves, out. Until the whispering of the cottonwoods is louder than are breathing. Until the coolness of dusk seeps into our bones cooling us. Raising my head, I look about the darkening prairie and Jed moves back just enough to look into my eyes. 

We don’t say a word.  
There is nothing to say. Nothing we don’t already know.   
That we’re not splitting up.  
Not for no reason. Not for no one. Not ever!

Stretching my kinked up legs, I climb to my feet offering him a hand and as he takes it, he looks at me with his blue eyes that remind me of my Ma and he says what I need most to hear. “We got each other and I won’t ever leave ya.”

I feel a smile break through my tear-dried face, the first since Pa congratulated. “Back at you Partner.”


	2. Best Medicine Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to a new life

 

‘I think my leg is asleep under the weight of Jed’s head. I can’t feel my foot either.’ Scanning the disorder that fills the inside the drummer’s wagon, I spot a slicker hanging from the curved beam. Can I reach it? Stretching… so close…wriggling then I can feel my fingers on the oily fabric. Problem is my squirming has Jed grumbling, nestling tighter into my already numb leg. 

Ever so carefully, I exchange the rolled up slicker for my leg. Dangling my legs off the back of the wagon, I set to flexing my foot, the circulation slowly, painfully returning. Looking back, I see he has burrowed in. ‘People always say he looks like an angle from heaven walking ‘bout in boots—which we’ve both used to our advantage many a time to get out of trouble. Don’t reckon anyone think him an angel now as pale and worn down as he looks. Figure, I look no better. No wonder this drummer doing Miss. Tisdale a favor by taking us up to the boy’s home, looked like he wanted to take the offer back when he saw us.’

‘Thought I’d be able to sleep once the streets of Aubry were far behind us, guess not.’ Leaning against the wagon’s side, I let the slow, steady, swaying rock me hoping I’ll fall asleep. But it’s the same. I close my eyes and see blood. Wiping a hand across my face, I mumble aloud, “I won’t think about it.” Instead, I reposition myself to watch over Jed. In his sleep, his small hand keeps swiping for a fly pestering him. I snort because ain’t no fly only his long hair brushing ‘gainst his cheek. ‘His Ma’s right, he’s past due for a haircut. Jed’s Ma…’ I see her and shake my head. ‘I won’t think about that. I won’t!’

Reaching out, I stroke the curl up and away so he will sleep easier. Running my fingers through his golden curls, I smile painfully. He will never know how much he means to me. ‘Blazes I’ve seen more than most men will see in a lifetime.’ I can feel my jaw beginning to quiver. ‘NO! I won’t think about any of it. What good is thinking on it or tears anyways? Won’t bring any of them back!’ Wiping my shirtsleeve across my eyes -- I try to think of anything else. Miss Tisdale. ‘She was sweet to us. Real broken up she couldn’t keep us, too. Never would have figured our old schoolteacher Miss Tisdale would have thought so much of us. Her salary and one room cabin, wasn’t no way she could take us on. I am obliged to her though for finding a place where we could be together, a way to get there and for keeping Jed while I rode over with Mr. Mathews to see… the rest.’ 

Combing through Jed’s curls, I study his young face, ‘He’d already seen enough. Kind of wish I’d stayed behind too. But I needed to see it with my own eyes. Not just, go by what we were being told. I thought… Well I didn’t reckon on the smell. The blood dried hard in the dirt. I won’t never forget dismounting and seeing all that dried blood. Or how our homes, built so close together, were nothing but burnt timbers and blackened chimneys. The air still stank of burnt flesh so different than--.’ Burying my face in my hands, I rub hard at my eyes, trying to rub it all way. But, I can’t rub the smell away. 

“Hannibal?” 

Peeking between my fingers, I see Jed up on his knees, his dirty hand inches from my arm. 

“Ya dreamin’?” He asks quietly. “I heard ya moanin’.”

“I’m fine.” I shrug giving him a grin to show him it’s not worth him worryin’ on. 

He tilts his head as he studies me and the frown settling into his face, lets me know he’s not pleased with what he’s seeing. “Ya sleep at all?”

“Naw, I’m fine.”

With a knowing nod he edges over to sit alongside me. “Ya gonna have to sleep sometime ya know?” When I don’t answer, he bumps his head against me – the way he used to. “Ya ain’t fine. And, I don’t care if I’m younger or not, I’m telling ya need to sleep.”

Chuckling I look down at him. The audacity of saying just what he’s thinkin’ is one of his points I’ve always liked best. This time, he was right too. “I will when we reach the home.” 

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

Well that’s that. Peterson and his wagon are gone, the dust has even settled from its departure. Only one thing left to do . . . Join Jed on the path leading up to the school. Right now, he’s only about five strides ‘head of me, but it looks more like several rods . . .looks that way ‘cause this is one road I don’t feel up to takin’. 

On the other hand, I really don’t have any choices left. Reachin’ into my pants pocket, I feel for the solid reassuring weight of Pa’s watch and with a long drawn out sigh I trot to catch up. “Don’t worry.” I hear myself saying as I lay an arm about his shoulder and wonder if I’m speaking to him or me.

‘So, this is it.’ I think as we stand before a two-story large brick and wood building, The Valparaiso School for Waywards, at least it’s what the sign says. So I know we’re in right place. It don’t look too friendly, despite how Ms. Tisdale made it out. I mean sure it’s nestled up in a little grove of cottonwood trees and the grass is thick and sweet all the way up to the wide covered front porch . . . but looking at it, I feel a chill run up my spine. Somehow, it looks kind of like a lonely place to be. Standing at the bottom of the front steps, I throw my shoulders back, giving Jed a squeeze about the shoulders, “Well standing out here ain’t gonna get us beds for the night”.

“Ya think we missed dinner?”

“You ever gonna stop thinkin’ with that stomach of yours?”

“Nope.”  
“Well, come on than let’s see if they have some food for you.” I’ve read about how you can walk through a moment of your life and it feels like moving through molasses. That is exactly how I feel, right now, as we walk up these freshly painted white steps. I even feel like my hand weighs more than it ought to as I reach out and knock on the door. 

Everything speeds right back up almost too quickly when the door flies open and I stare open-mouthed at a short, round, red-faced woman.

“Heh, what you wanting here?” She asks her hands working briskly at a towel as if we had interrupted her in the midst of work.

“Good day, ma’am. Ms. Tisdale sent ahead. . .”

“Oh—oh it’s you. I was told you might be here today or tomorrow.” She frowns shaking her head. “Two more mouths to feed, humph! Well, don’t stand there gawking.” 

As she turns away, my first thought is ‘RUN!’ My fingers sneak into my front pocket tightly grasping the cold firmness of the watch. 

“You coming or not? Mister Milton will want o speak to you. Come now – step smartly boys.” Opening the door to an office, she scoops a pile of old newspapers to one side of a couch, motioning for us to sit. “Don’t be wandering about. Keep yourselves and your hands Right Here!” 

So now here we sit. I see faces peeking at us as boys quickly amble past the open door and I feel like a yearling calf left out for inspection at auction. Jed’s eyes are squinting up tighter as he looks about, I know he don’t think much of this either. The office is musty, smells of old cigar smoke but there is also three overflowing bookcases. ‘Boy howdy but I’d love to get some time with them. And, hell-fire is that what I think it is sitting in the far corner.’ Leaning forward, I stretch to see better and read Brooker Safe Company. ‘Holy smokes a real safe. Just like I’ve read about in the yellow back novels that Ma’s always fusses at Pa for buying me . . .’ Thinking of them jerks me up quick and I can hear heavy steps approaching. I know it must be Mister Milton come to meet us. I glance at Jed, he is so rigid the muscles are sticking out in his neck and I nod in agreement, to how he is feeling, as we both stand to greet the man who will soon be in charge of us. Laying an arm about his shoulder I whisper, “Not no one”. 

He looks up me with a smile, “Not ever”.


	3. Best Medicine Pt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a different view

My name is Jane Rowse. I came to the West, to be join the staff at the Valparaiso School for Waywards. My hopes were the endeavor would bring richness to my life as I fulfilled my Christian duty to assist those less fortunate. Most of the children who disembark here from the orphan trains are street urchins rescued from slums. The arrive joyful to have a roof over their head, a warm bed, hot food and the hope of a family or apprenticeship, which will allow them to thrive in a world they have thought was only out to beat them down.

Weston, Missouri has proven to be unlike any place I have ever known . . . So wild, so rugged, and yet every bit as bustling with enterprise as my native home of Philadelphia. The children, which have passed through these doors, have filled my life with excitement, some tragedy, and memories I shall treasure all my days. However, it is Hannibal Heyes and Jedediah Curry who I hold the closest.

They were the first, of what would later be many, to arrive who were actually born out here in the West. But, they were the first. The letter their teacher had sent ahead announcing them, well I had never read anything so terrible. Of course, that was before the Civil War had begun, before blood saturated the soil of America drowning soldiers and innocents alike in its wake.

But as I was saying, they were the first. I suppose it is why I requested to be present when Mister Milton welcomed them. His robust form, blocked my initial glimpse of them, nevertheless, I recall hearing them jump to their feet respectfully. Edging to the side of my employer, I saw a dark-haired lad with one arm wrapped around a child I thought to be eight or nine years old.

"Sir, I am Hannibal Heyes and this is my cousin Jedediah Curry." He said, offering his hand to Milton. "I am told your home has space for the pair of us." And, upon releasing Milton's hand, the most amazing point within this introduction happened. Hannibal Heyes smiled. Sounds absurd does it not? Yet until his smile emerged, I had seen only a boy of maybe ten or eleven trying valiantly to look much older. But when he smiled, he completely changed and I recall thinking, 'Oh my, but will he not be dangerous, when he grows into that smile.'

I do not believe it affected Milton in the least as he had seen many smiling children before him through the years. As I said, they were generally quite happy to be here.

Tucking his thumbs in his vest pockets, Milton cleared his throat, "Yes we do, and I have set aside beds for the pair of you. If all goes well I will place you each with new families and your stay here will be short."

This is why I had come, I knew it the moment I saw their reaction. This was the same speech, Milton used for all the arrivals yet somehow, in my gut, I knew it would be different when these boys heard it. And, I was right . . . For they stepped back, drawing closer together.

"In fact, Curry being so young, I should have him placed in a jiffy and if lucky, I might find a place for you, Hannibal at a farm or maybe with one of the industries here about."

As he said this last part, Milton rubbed his hands together just as I had often seen him do. And, for the first time, it came to me how avarice the motion looked especially as gloated over the boys as if appraising them like horses for sell.

I felt a hard lump begin to burn in my stomach even as Hannibal pushed the younger child behind him protectively. His dark eyes, searching for what I was sure was a way to escape. I knew in that very second, if I did not do something he would bolt. Pushing in front of Milton, I extended my own hand to them, "Hello Bubs, I am Miss Rowse. It is not, as all bad as that. Come I will help you settle in and I bet your hungry." As I said this, Jed peeked from around his cousin. "You are. Aren't you? Well then, we should go see what Ida has left from supper." For almost too long, he stared at my offered hand and just when I thought he would not, Jed took hold looking up at me with a gap-toothed smile. Feeling I had hurdled, a huge obstacle, I looked to Hannibal, he only nodded stiffly but politely followed Jed and I for the room. It seems I can see those tense minutes in Milton's office clearer than any of my other memories.

Today I am packing my room. I have spent most of decade here at Valparaiso. In its own way, it has become my home. Nevertheless, my dear brother Leonard grievously wounded at the Battle of Nashville; I must return to Philadelphia. Leonard will need me.

Yet somehow, those Kansas cousins squeezed their way into my heart as no other child here ever managed. I am not saying I am hard-hearted. I have lots of glorious recollections of the children who have passed through here, it is just Heyes and Jed . . . well I connected with them on some level. Now, packing to return East, I almost feel as if I am leaving a part of my family here.

Making one more circuit of my room, I stoop to look under the bed and then dresser assuring myself I have left nothing behind. 'Left nothing behind . . . Hmpf. Only the life I have built, my independence, the children . . . and of course Heyes and Jed.' Thinking on this I frown, slamming the lid of my traveling trunk with more force than it deserves. Then I clearly hear the hollow ring of the lid's boom echoed outside.

Going to my room's single window, I push up the sash, taking a seat on its wide ledge. Below, by the barn is Valparaiso's groundskeeper Lewis, he is teaching target practice to a group of boys. My boys are with them. 'I have got to stop thinking of them that way. . .'

Heyes and Jed are superior shots, thanks to Lewis tutelage. He is adamant every boy should know how to defend himself. Back East, I would have thought his notions silly yet living out here, I have come to fully appreciate his point-of-view. Jed has taken to practicing a fast draw, I am not sure why but from what I am told, he is fast a rattler and twice as dangerous.

I feel a tear slip down my check; I have been a coward for I have not told them I am leaving. I worry for them. I know they will never be placed in a family . . . not if Heyes has anything to say about it. So I worry. I worry if they will be safe here with me gone. I know it is arrogant of me. But never have I seen two people lock horns as Milton and Heyes do and I would run out of fingers counting the times I have come to the cousins of their rescues over the years. At least, I know Lewis and Ida will watch over them. 'Yes they will.' I smile, leaning my cheek against the window frame, letting my mind drift back to the day Lewis became their friend.

It was their second day here. I had left them in Ida's kitchen line where she was serving up the evening meal. I had gone to fetch a novel from my room and coming down the stairs, I heard the most appalling clamor arising from below. I could not imagine what was happening as I raced toward the noise. And what did I find? Hannibal Heyes and Jubal Ewell sparring as the others cheered them on. Now, Jubal left us shortly after that fight to join a riverboat crew on the Missouri and I remember too why the captain chose him. Jubal was already huge for his age. Towering over and consequently bullying over every child at Valparaiso. Nonetheless, here was Heyes, acting as David against his own Goliath, and holding his own rather well. I knew the fight must be stopped however before I could wade into the boys; Ida was there armed with a large wooden spoon. She swung her spoon like a cavalier would his sword, flinging both children and mashed potatoes all about the room.

As she worked her way to the combatants, each child she passed felt the sting of the spoon and her ire at having her kitchen treated like a saloon at midnight. Myself, I was praying Ida would not tarry over the others as she made her way across the room, for Jubal had discovered how to take advantage of the length of his arms. He had pinned Hannibal to a wall with one meaty hand as was duly pummeling him with the other. I knew despite Hannibal's tenacity. This was one fight he was going to lose-- unless someone intervened. Lucky for him, Ida intended to do just that. I also believe to this day that Jubal had no idea what headed his way when Ida laid into him with that wooden spoon. I am unsure what surprised him more the force of her blows or the force of her language. I had heard a rough word slip from Ida here and there but on that day, I found out, she could easily cuss down a mule train driver, once she was worked up into a righteous rage, that is.

When she struck him, Jubal hollered loud enough to be heard over the ruckus and throwing is hands over his head, ducked, scurrying from Ida's insistent blows. Yet, even as Hannibal slid down the wall—Ida whacked him a good one too before he had the where with all to try to escape. But, rather than run away. He stood up, looked Ida right in the eye, and flashed her one of his disarming smiles. That is exactly what it did, too. It actually froze Ida in mid-swing and with a loud; "humph" she turned from Hannibal to smote the fleeing Jubal once more, advising both in no friendly terms to get out of her kitchen.

I could not help laughing at both of them as they slid past me for there is nothing like having your show of manliness and courage demeaned by a mashed potato spoon. Still and all, the sound I remember most, over all the chatter and noise was Lewis laughing. That man adores anything full of spit and vinegar; it is why I figure, he loves Ida so. In only a few minutes, Hannibal had fully shown Lewis he was stock full of this combination.

Of course on a more somber note, the fight landed Heyes and Jubal in Milton's office for disciplinary action. I was never made me privy to what happened behind those closed doors, but I can still vividly recall the chill that passed through me when Heyes emerged, silently striding by.

It was only much later, I found out the whole fight was over Heyes' Father's pocket watch. In the end, Milton placed it in his personal safe to prevent further brawling. 'Well I've come full circle . . . back to the way Milton and Heyes butt heads. What will become of him?' Looking about, I realize I have sat here longer than I believed, never even noticing when the gunfire had ceased or even that the sun was beginning its downward journey.

"Are you all packed and ready?"

"Heyes, how did you know I was leaving?"

In reply, he only raises his eyebrows as if to say that is his secret to keep.

With a deep sigh, I stand, stretching the stiffness from my bones. He has his head tilted and I can tell he has been studying me.

"Don't worry he won't get the best of us." He states as if he can read my mind and then flashes that bedeviled smile.

"Quit trying to fluster me."

"Yeah, Heyes quit flustering Ms. Rowse."

"Oh, thank goodness Jed. You have come to my rescue, again."

Pushing past his cousin, Jed stands before me grinning.

"I knew chivalry still existed." Gathering my handbag and shawl I purposely look to Heyes, so I can see the full impact of using his first name, which in the past year has become a sore spot to him, "Honestly Hannibal, I do not understand why you enjoy flustering me so much, anyways."

He barely cringes. But he also does not correct me as has become his tradition when his Christian name is used. "Just practicing Ms. Rowse."

"Well, practice on Ida."

"I do."

"Oh –Oh you are incorrigible."

He grins once more, bucking my traveling trunk up onto his shoulder.

"Ms. Rowse?" Jed bows slightly, offering his arm. Smiling at his gallantry, I take it allowing him to escort me to the front porch where my coach should be waiting by now. The stairs seem darker this evening than I remember and I realize it is because I am weeping and Jed is pushing a kerchief into my hand.

"Really Ms. Rowse we will both get by . . . how would you say it?"

I look at him expectantly.

"Admirably." He says with one of his wide smiles to let me know he means it.

And, before I want it to end, our walk is over and I see that Milton is standing on the front lawn awaiting my arrival. He scowls at my two companions which does very little to set my earlier thoughts at ease. "Ms. Rowse you will be missed here."

"Why thank you Mister Milton. I too will miss Valparaiso."

He nods, stiffly handing me my final pay and briskly walks back up into the home. I have always felt he was a man of little compassion. Alas, he is no longer my worry . . . in a few days my full worry will be for Leonard. The driver has opened the coach door and is waiting expectantly as my trunk has already been stowed up top. 'Well, Jane old girl this is it, be brave.' I look once at my feet; take a deep breath, "I wish I had final words of farewell. However, I simply cannot think of any."

"Ms. Rowse I feel the same way. So I'll say have a safe trip." Jed leans forward, giving me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "I will miss you."

"Oh Jed." I hug him again, kissing him too on the cheek. "I will miss you terribly." Turning I see Heyes standing looking out over the yard and although I feel closer to Jed, it has always been Heyes who I had to battle with Milton over. Who I had to gain trust and who stirs my concern most often. I realize I will in fact miss him the most.

"Ms. Rowse you have been the best medicine for the both of us . . . I hope you facilitate your brother half as much." Looking about and seeing only his cousin and the driver, Heyes blushes and stretches across the gap between us and before I know it, he kisses me straight on the lips. He jumps back after the briefest contact but I can tell he is very proud of himself. I actually feel breathless with surprise. "Like I have said too many times you are truly incorrigible!"

Leaning from the coach's window, I call, "Good life to the both of you". I then wave at them until the hill blocks them from sight. Yet, I will carry their final image in my mind, of how they had changed from the pallid, scared children to the strong, proud boys standing on the brink of manhood waving me farewell.


	4. Best Medicine Pt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what happened when Miss Rowse left

Best Medicine: Part Four – the final chapter, Ida’s Letter  
Alias Smith & Jones Story

Eighth of August 1864

Greetings to you Ms. Jane,

I thought long and hard on it and I figured I should write to you. Tell you of all that happened. I wants you to know I ain’t one to nose through another’s belongings but when I seen your name on that letter. Well, I just knew I had to see why you would be a writing Milton.

Ms. Jane I can’t tell you how very remorseful I am your letter did not come sooner. I am also potent certain that man wrote you some sort of fib. I know you always said not to speak poorly of him. But, Ms. my blinders were never on to him as they were to you. He is just a despicable man and that is all I can say nice about him.

Let me put your heart ease right off though by telling you, Heyes and the Kid, too are both still walking this here earth. But bless their souls I surly do not know where. You see they fled this here place. And, I hope they get a good long ways away too. 

What came to pass was this . . . ol’ Heyes he turned into an all-fired bag of trouble once you lefts for home. I ain’t blaming you. I know you had to go back and them boys did too. I don’t rightly think he planned on causing trouble but he sure did step right up and invite it to him whenever it brushed near. Always telling Milton his opinion even got to correcting him in the classroom too. Those two was just a cussing match waiting to happen around every corner. 

But Ms. Jane, Heyes just went too far. See that man had lined up what he calls adoptions for a handful of the boys with a gent who needed more riders for a trail drive. When this gent, speaks to Heyes. Well that silver-tongued imp he goes on abouts how he don’t know nothing about cattle, how he’s right scared of sleeping outdoors and just generally stupid when it comes to horses. And not only that, but Heyes gets the other boys chattering on with the same type of fibbing tales. 

Well, that gent tells Milton off, uses some right handy language too, about how he wasted his time and he’d make sure to tell others. 

Which confuses Milton worse than a lost chicken, cause he’d been figuring to earn a healthy fee from this gent as he’d hand-picked boys, he rightly knew had spent a part of their lives around farm animals. So he up and queried the gent as to why his boys weren’t good enough.

That’s when he finds out what Heyes and the boys were saying. He tried, and do mean tried, to explain to that gent how them boys were from right here in the West and that they were only funnin’ him. But, the gent, he was twisted up and a bit scared of where the boys might have actually come from, so he skedaddled on down the road. 

I never seen a man so red under the collar as that man when he stormed up onto the porch to confront Heyes. And, Ms that boy was standing there sporting one of his big-dimpled gloating grins. Milton he stepped right up on him, looked him in the eye, and reared back laying a blow onto Heyes that sent him flying all the way down to the lawn.

Then here comes Kid barreling across the grass bearing straight for Milton, but blessed be heaven, my Lewis was handy and grabbed Kid by the back of his shirt and jeans, pulls him up before he can even reach the steps. 

Will say, the rage boiling from Kid, did shake Milton up a bit, I could see it because his eyes rolled like nervous cow. But it don’t stop him none from turning back on Heyes who was picking himself up off the ground. “You damnable skulking, lying coward. You have ruined the last adoption ever. I will see you get your dues.” Is what Milton squalled at him, shaking his fist, but he sure didn’t inch himself down them steps any.

Now we all know Heyes has is devil stubborn. Take on anyone, no matter who, what or size and I tell you, he looked mad enough to swallow a horny toad backwards but his voice sounded as smooth as churned cream when he said, “Is that so Mister Milton . . . well I would never be so bold as to pass judgment on a person, I don’t know or understand. But I’ve have come to see you’re filled with such hubris that making assumptions is as easy as breathing for you. So if’n you think you can take me and give me my dues then Mister, step right on down.”

“You watch yourself boy. I will have my way.” 

But before he could storm back inside, a chuckled laugh floated eerily across the space between them. “Mister Milton have you forgotten how much we are worth to you?”

Now Ms. Jane, I don’t know what Heyes meant by that. Them words has haunted my nights and days because I never seen such pure evil as the smile which appeared on that man’s face as he turned to eye Kid, “Oh but Hannibal there is more than one way to be rid of vermin and still get paid.” 

Well, Ms. it was that very night Heyes and Kid came a knocking at our door in the darkest of hours. They had with them a wad of papers. Heyes, he said, he took’em from that man’s safe. Did you know Heyes could open a safe just by as he called it, manipulating the tumblers? Told us, he taught himself out of necessity and boredom. Don’t that beat all? Anyways, those papers, every one of them, were death certificates. Most of them, children who had been adopted away. Then he showed us a ledger of payments from government for medical and burial fees for those children. Lewis saw right away, that man, has been making money not only from his adoptions but also in their deaths. Like I said, despicable, I would use harsher words but I know you don’t take kindly to it. And, would you believe, that man already had certificates filled out on Heyes and Kid. 

My Lewis, he said that was bad news straight out. Heyes he felt the same and said it was time for them to be quit of this place. I wanted to argue with them but there weren’t no way. Not when I could see right there on my kitchen table how that man had something awful planned for them. Well, Lewis he loaded Heyes up with an old Navy Colt. Would you believe he then rigged Kid up with the new Colt Army, I gave him for Yule last year? I wanted to argue over that too but Lewis he gives me a look that said I should keep it in. That was when I saw Kid draw a gun for the first time as he tested the weight of the Colt. Did you know he can drag a barrel quicker than you can spit and holler howdy? Them boys always was full of surprises. 

We sent them out into the night on a good horse, a canvas bag of food and me and Lewis stood there listening till we couldn’t hear that horse no more. So that’s that Ms. Jane. . . They is gone. I sure do wish your letter had arrived earlier, I know they would have been plumb tickled to have your family adopt them. Now all we can do is pray the good Lord watches over them and that they survive this world and the war surrounding us all. 

Lewis and I have moved and are no longer working for that man. Because we know, somehow what he’s doing isn’t as right as he likes to make out. God speed and bless you, I surly didn’t mean to hurt you any by being so truthful in this here letter but I felt you would want to know everything. 

Ida Rhendt  
Northfield, Minnesota


End file.
